“You’ll come back here after the party? Maybe sneak up into my room? You know, maybe we could…” His words trail off in a rare moment of shyness. I gasp when his lips brush against my neck, a slight tease of his tongue following behind.

“I’ll sneak away as soon as I can,” I say on a sigh, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Promise you won’t leave me all alone?” His eyes dance with amusement, but I see a deeper insecurity I don’t quite understand.

I look at him … in him … through him, and see the boy I dreamed of, the teenager I crushed on, the young man I’d give my life for.

“I promise, Lucas. I’ll never leave you alone.” A small smile dances on my lips as my hand reaches around his waist and grabs at his very tight cheek. “And we can definitely…”

“Use Somebody” by Kings of Leon

Present Day

I CLOSE MY eyes and inhale a gulp of fresh country air, tipping my head toward the sun. The only sound for miles is the lapping water—just the way I like it. Saturday mornings at the pond are a ritual for me. My family owns more than their fair share of land in and around Providence, but no spot is sweeter than this acreage. With a fully stocked bass pond and hundred year old live oak trees tailor-made for fishing and napping under, this is a country boy’s dream spot. It’s damn near orgasmic.

I prop my feet on the edge of the boat and take a good look at my less-than-stellar cousin, Will. He’s a sophomore at Northern U, and he takes after his older and much wiser cousin in the partying department. I pretty much poured his drunk ass into the truck this morning. His baseball cap is pulled low, the brim hiding his inevitably closed eyes, and I swear to Christ I can smell the day-old whiskey seeping from his pores.

“So tell me what’s been going on, my man. How’s living in the Alpha Omega house?” My voice is two octaves higher than necessary, but his wince spurs me on. If he’s stupid enough to come to my pond still drunk from the night before, I’m gonna fuck with him.

“Could you just,” he whispers while squeezing the bridge of his nose. “Just tone it down about ten levels, man.”

“Not gonna happen, dude. You know me better than that. How about a beer? A little hair of the dog?” I ask, lifting a beer from the ice chest as I grab my own. All I get in response is a glare. At least I think he’s glaring, but it’s hard to tell with the hat in the way. I shrug my shoulders and take a pull off my beer. His loss. “I need to know about this epic night of partying that has left you the shadow of a man I see before me. What the hell happened?”

Will lifts his hat and grins lazily. “It was fucking epic. It started out with a beer pong tournament and ended at this chick’s apartment, passing a bong.”

“Is that so? Hmmmm … who’s the chick? Anyone you need to tell me about?”

Could I lecture him about the bong? Yeah, but I choose to keep my mouth shut. I’ve been there. Nothing ever came of it, and I realized early on it wasn’t my gig. I’m gonna let Will learn that lesson on his own, but I’m sure as hell going to keep a closer eye on him going forward. I want to make sure this is just a phase and nothing more.

“Not my girl. My buddy, Carson, hooked up with her,” he says as he starts coming back to the land of living, bit by tiny bit. A smirk plays on his lips. “That’s done, though. He said she’s a gumbo pot.”

“The fuck?” I’ve never heard a woman referred to as a gumbo pot, but I’m pretty sure it’s less-than-complimentary, if Will’s expression is any indication.

“You know, Cain, a gumbo pot. Once you stick your dick in, you have to stir it around to hit the other side. A loose bitch.”

Before he finishes his last sentence, I smash my empty can of beer on my leg and pelt him in the head with the hunk of aluminum. I tag him pretty good on his ear and his hand springs up to cover it.

“What the hell, man?”

“Don’t ever let me hear you talk about a woman that way again.” I curl my lip in disgust and clench my fists, restraining myself from knocking some sense into him. “You know better than that, Will. I’ve taught you better than that.”

And I have. I may be a serial dater—hooking up and moving on without ever planting real roots—but I never disrespect women. I treat my women like queens, no matter how short their reign on the throne may be.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Cain, I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t say it; Carter did. I know I shouldn’t have repeated it,” he explains, and I can tell he wishes he could take it back.

“No, you shouldn’t have. Ya know what you should’ve done when that douchebag ran his mouth? You should have asked him what the fuck is wrong with his spoon.” I reel in my line and bait my empty hook before recasting.

My phone chimes, alerting me to a new text.

“His spoon?”

“That’s what I said,” I reply as I open up my messages and see a text from Adam. “When guys complain about the ‘pot,’ it has more to do with size of the spoon. That should shut the pencil dick up.”

Will howls in laughter as I read Adam’s message. We have plans to hit the bar tonight. Once a month, his parents take Lily and Gage on weekend adventures. We usually make adult plans of our own.

Celia’s coming tonight. You don’t mind, right?

Well, shit. I guess it doesn’t matter if I mind or not, since he’s already asked her. I know he and Celia have become fast friends, in addition to being neighbors, but I’ve kept a safe distance these last few months after our awkward first meeting. I don’t have anything against the girl; I just don’t want to spend my Saturday night apologizing.

“I can’t wait to shut Carson up. He needs to be taken down a few notches, if you ask me,” Will says with a chuckle.

“Huh?” I ask, my mind preoccupied with visions of my asshat behavior around a certain fairy. “Oh, yeah, set that fucker straight, Will. He shouldn’t be saying those things about that girl; I don’t care if her pussy makes the Grand Canyon look like a ditch. A real man keeps that shit to himself.”

Will nods in agreement and looks at me with a genuine level of respect. I’m glad he still values my opinion instead of following the masses of dickheads in his frat. He’s a good kid; he just needs a little direction and guidance.

I settle back into my seat and refocus on catching some bass, feeling my job here is done. I can only hope my night out goes as well as the morning…

I rap my knuckles on the door and walk inside without waiting for permission. I know Adam doesn’t have a chick inside, because if he did, there’s no way he’d be going out with me tonight. I can hear the strumming of a guitar from out on the porch, and I can’t hold back my eye roll and smirk.

“God, man, you are such a clichéd douche. Save the tortured musician act for the bar. I don’t have a vagina, so no need to impress me.”

I round the corner, into the living room, and my eyes settle on a sparkling fairy with wide eyes and a pretty pink mouth, set in the shape of an “O.” She’s perched on the edge of Adam’s sofa, her pale yellow dress barely reaching the tops of her knees.

Why do I always make a supreme ass out of myself anytime this girl is around?

I grip the back of my neck and shake my head. I hear a low, amused chuckle coming from Adam, and I shoot him an irritated frown.

Before I can launch into my litany of excuses and apologies, Celia bursts out laughing. “You had better not be trying to get in my pants, Adam Hunt, or so help me, I’ll wrap those guitar strings around your sweet little neck.”